The Depths of Despair
by flustered beauty
Summary: Harry is suffering and drinking heavily after the war. Can Hermione help him?


_Written for Book Club: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _Book Chosen: Harry Potter_

 _Prompts used: Harry Potter, muggle, wizard, prejudice and "you do care. You care so much that you feel as if you will bleed to death of it."_

 **The Depths of Despair**

The houses of Grimmauld Place all had an air of neglect about them; but none more so than number thirteen and even though she knew she was the only one who could see it, Hermione still couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed approaching it.

Hermione opened the rusted, whining gate and battled her way through the overgrown yard to knock on the front door.

After waiting several minute and receiving no answer, Hermione knocked again, much louder this time. She could hear the familiar screams of Mrs Blacks portrait coming from inside the house but no one came to the door, so carefully stepping over the wild nettles she looked through the front window but as her hand rested on the frame, the rotten wood crumbled, causing her to lose her balance. She got back on her feet and knocked on the window this time, just as the front door opened wide.

Hermione was momentarily rooted to the spot as she took in her friends appearance. It had only been a couple of weeks since she last saw him but he looked so much worse. Harry was now sporting a patchy but long beard, his face was pale and drawn, he had large black bags under his yellowing eyes and his already unruly hair now grew wild. His clothes were dirty and hung from his small frame. He covered himself with a fraying blanket.

Without a word harry ushered her into the squalid house and took a seat in the armchair which bore an unmistakable groove, as if he hadn't left it in weeks. Hermione cleared some rubbish off the old, musty smelling sofa and took a seat opposite him.

"Kreacher, bring Hermione a cup of tea." Harry shouted towards the Kitchen.

The elf replied followed by a series of nonsensical mutterings. Kreacher handed Hermione her drink with a look of digust and shuffled quickly out of the room.

"Harry, I'm worried about you." Hermione started nervously.

Harry regarded her silently, sat forward in his seat and reached for the half empty bottle of Firewhiskey that sat on his coffee table and drank deeply.

"There's no need, Hermione." He said through gritted teeth.

Hermione took a sip of her tea and chose her words carefully. "Harry, you haven't spoken to anyone in weeks, Ron said he came by the other day but you didn't even answer the door. You're avoiding us and I think I know why."

"I'm just chilling out Hermione, enjoying myself. Do you not think that I deserve that after the last eight years."

"Harry, this is not what I'd call enjoying yourself." Hermione said solemnly, "this is you slipping further down into a pit of misery. Please, Harry, let us help you."

"I don't need your help, Hermione." Harry snarled before taking a few huge swings from his bottle.

"Yes you do! Can't you see that! I understand how you must be feeling, Harry. I really do, but every man, woman, child, wizard and muggle have been affected by this war in some way and we've all got to find a way to cope and move on. Shutting yourself away is not the answer."

"You know nothing about how I am feeling, nothing! So don't pretend that you do!" Harry shouted as he threw the bottle of firewhiskey across the room, causing it to smash into thousands of pieces.

"But I do Harry, you lost people you loved but I loved them too!" Hermione replied now with a calmer, softer voice, hoping to keep him talking.

"If you think that's what this is about then you are very wrong." Harry said devoid of any emotion."

"Then talk to me! I'm your best friend." She pleaded.

"I can't Hermione. I just can't bring myself to care anymore." He replied dejectedly, slumping back further into the armchair.

Hermione rose from her chair angrily and shouted at her friend, hoping to make him see reason.

"But you do care, Harry, you do! You care so much that you feel as if you will bleed to death with the pain of it!"

A faint glistening of tears welled up in Harry's eyes.

"I thought it would be better now," He admitted in a whisper. "Now that's he is gone. But it's not really is it? So many people gave their lives to fight evil but what was it all for. There is still so much evil, there is still so much prejudice in the world and there is not a thing I can do to fix it."

Harry wiped away his tears and summoned another bottle of firewhiskey from the kitchen, he drank down several massive gulps before returning his attention to Hermione.

"You can only fix the world with small steps." Hermione replied wisely.


End file.
